


Off The Deep End

by kaermorhencalls



Series: Musically-Inspired OW Ficlets [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, F/F, Moira takes care of her, Sombra has ADHD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaermorhencalls/pseuds/kaermorhencalls
Summary: Sombra has a hard time knowing when to stop, living on the edge of a razor between hyperfocus and overstimulation. Moira makes sure she can come down from her buzz gently.
Relationships: Moira O'Deorain/Sombra | Olivia Colomar
Series: Musically-Inspired OW Ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721365
Kudos: 15





	Off The Deep End

**Author's Note:**

> I'm cleaning out my google drive of small fics I've written over the last year. This is one of them.

* * *

**_Tell me somethin', girl_ **

**_Are you happy in this modern world?_ **

**_Or do you need more?_ **

**_Is there somethin' else you're searchin' for?_ **

* * *

Sombra cradles the powers of the world in her fingertips behind planes of glass, neon light pouring from the walls around her. She is ethereal under the purple, the brightness washing out everything but the darkest of hues. She needs to work like this, with every sense overpowered so that all that remains is her fingertips on the keyboard and the lightning fast information flowing through her mind. This is all she needed. The lights and the power and the screaming beats under her skin from the pounding bass of her music.   
  
This is power. This is where she belongs, where she thrives.   
  
However, once the sheer adrenaline dies down and everything becomes just a bit too grating, a bit too discordant for her off-kilter mind to compensate for. Her actions turn into jitters, and she tries to tune back into the background static of her universe that creates the perfect harmony of chaos and disorder for her to rule the world.

Once the static pours from her in defeated tears, unable to continue despite forcing her senses into overload, the overlord slumps in her chair while a set of cool, pale hands remove the headphones from her ears and set them aside, dimming the lights and shutting the computers to sleep.

* * *

**_I'm falling_ **

**_In all the good times I find myself_ **

**_Longin' for change_ **

**_And in the bad times I fear myself_ **

* * *

Moira was always the anchor to Sombra’s wayward ship, the port in the storm that was her life, always changing and dangerous. Moira was the bulwark, the castle walls battering the storm because she was fearless of its rolling thunder and dangerous lightning. Hearing the thudding music and the purple neon glow leaking out from beneath the hacker’s door gave the geneticist an inkling of what was happening, but when the noises were no longer just that of energetic typing, she knew it was time to face the maelstrom that was the person she loved. 

Cutting the lights, Moira watches the tremors over Sombra’s body as she tries, futilely, to continue her work of wrecking pure havoc wherever she pleases. Overstimulation was never healthy, but it fueled the hacker. With a low hum, she lifts the lithe woman from her chair and clicks the monitor off. It was fine for a bit, but once the tremors set in, intervention was needed. Before, they were only minor, as if she was just over caffeinated. But now, it was so severe that even sometimes her cybernetics would flicker. Something Moira would never like to repeat. 

* * *

**_Tell me something, boy_ **

**_Aren't you tired tryin' to fill that void?_ **

**_Or do you need more?_ **

**_Ain't it hard keeping it so hardcore?_ **

* * *

A cold room, a glowing soft pale blue nightlight in the corner, and a bundle of blankets helped to bring the hacker down from the tangled web of power she soaked herself in without pause. Her wife, laying at her side and slowly carding long fingers through her hair as it pooled over the other’s arm. Moira was always there, whenever something went wrong, or even when things went devilishly right. A gentle smile tugged at the hacker’s lips, cheek pressed to the other’s chest. 

She was glad to have such a person in her life. To save her, especially from herself, in time where she stuck her bleeding hand into the shark tank just for the thrill of it all.


End file.
